


Arrivederci, amante

by abbyneedstochill



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Monologue, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Post-Season/Series 03, Romance, Sad, Sad Ending, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 14:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyneedstochill/pseuds/abbyneedstochill
Summary: After the fall off the cliff, Hannibal tends to an unconscious Will. Against the odds, they have survived. Hannibal waits for Will to wake up, he has something to say.





	Arrivederci, amante

Hannibal watched Will as he slept. His chest rose and fell, each breath seemed longer than the last. All that Hannibal could do was wait. He did his best, of course. He could not, he would not let Will die. 

He tried to make sense of what had happened. Dolarhyde was dead and Jack was no idiot. He would know. He would know it was Hannibal.  
Worse, he would know it was Will.

He gave his wounds a once-over. They weren't as bad as they felt when he crawled out of the water. He was fine, he was awake. It might hurt when he moved but he was alive.  
Will was much worse off. Dolarhyde had injured him. The stab wound wasn't infected but Will had lost a lot of blood and the impact on the water couldn't have helped his condition.

He glanced back at Will Graham. Will jumped off that cliff, and he pulled Hannibal with him. Hannibal had always had an instinct for survival, an innate need to live. He would do anything, anything at all to be free and alive.  
But he didn't hesitate. He didn't want to hesitate, he didn't hold back. He took that leap and he took it as a leap of faith. Surely, if they both survived, they were meant to be. 

He found himself running a hand through Will's hair.  
"Once again, you would take my life, Will." Hannibal muttered, "This is getting rather repetitive."  
He sighed, before going on with his speech. Not that Will could even hear him.  
"I told you that my compassion for you is inconvenient," Hannibal looked at Will's unconscious face. He looked so calm with his eyes shut, so serene. "I'd let you have it. I'd let you take my life if it meant I'd go down with you."  
He kept glancing back at Will as if expecting him to wake up and reply. Will showed no reaction and Hannibal continued.  
"We truly are tragic lovers, are we not?" He mused "I suppose there isn't a point in hiding it, is there? I love you, Will." 

Will remained the same. Still asleep, still unconscious. No sign of him stirring, Hannibal felt a pang of something. A foreign ache. He cupped Will's cheek with one hand.  
"You have to wake up soon, Will." Hannibal pleaded, quietly "I realize you might not feel the same way but I don't want to have to live in a world without you."

This was the moment, wasn't it? The heart-wrenching moment. Will should wake up, tell Hannibal that he loved him too. That it was okay. It would be beautiful. Hannibal would look at him, make sure he was breathing fine. Make sure that he could spare a few breathless moments because Hannibal wanted to lean in and kiss him. Finish what he wanted to do when they were up on the cliff together. Keep Will close, never let him go.

But Will didn't wake up. Will never woke up. Will never heard Hannibal's confession. Hannibal tried to convince himself it was fine, that Will's lack of a pulse meant nothing but denial only works for so long. There was no bringing him back.

He pulled Will's hair back and kissed him on the forehead.  
"Goodbye, Will." Hannibal ignored the tear rolling down his cheek. 

He picked up Will's body and put him in the back of the police car he had taken. Hannibal wanted time, he needed time to grieve but they had already spent the night at the house, and the FBI would find it eventually. So he drove. He drove to the house of an old friend, someone he had once made a promise to. 

Hannibal was quite intelligent, his knowledge was practically boundless. He was incredibly skilled in far too many fields but there were two that he was particularly gifted at, two that felt familiar. Two things that he simply had to do to distract himself, to get away from his grief just for a moment, from the fact that the man that he loved was dead.  
Hannibal could cook, and Hannibal could kill.

And Hannibal Lecter owed Bedelia Du Maurier a visit.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello!
> 
> This is my first actual published work on here so I suppose an introduction is an order.  
You can call me Abby. I probably won't write very often but I really wanted to get this one out.  
I hope you enjoyed this! It isn't my best but I am happy with it. 
> 
> Goodbye! I hope you have a great day :)
> 
> Edit:  
Hello! I can't believe this has 400 hits! I didn't think anyone would read this, honestly.  
I haven't been writing anything new lately because I've been quite busy with schoolwork but I will soon. I hope you guys are having an awesome day!  
-Abby


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